UPON THE
EXECUTION
Of the Late
Viscount STAFFORD.
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I.
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SHall every Jack and every Jill,
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That rides in State up Holborn-Hill
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By aid of Smithfield Rhymes defie
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The Malice of Mortality?
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And shall Lord Stafford dye forgot?
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He that would needs be such a Sot,
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To dye for love of a damn'd Plot?
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No, Viscount, no; beleive it not,
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II.
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Diana's Temple, all in flame,
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Advanc'd th' Incendiaries Name;
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Ruffians, and Bauds, and Whores, and Theives,
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In Ballad Records live new lives,
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And shall a Lord because a Traytor,
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In such an Age so given to flatter,
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Want that which others, Saints to him,
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Nere want to fame them Words and Rhime.
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III.
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Oh Sir, the Papishes, you know
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Have much more gratitude then so,
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For this same Lord that brake the Laws
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Of God and Man, to serve their Cause,
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Shall live in Prayers, and Almanacks
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Beyond what Ballad-Monger make;
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And some years hence, you'l see, shall work
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Such Miracles, would turn a Turk.
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IV.
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Blest is that Man that has a Box
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To save the Sawdust in, that sokes
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His tainted Blood, or can besmeare
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One corner of his Muckinder;
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Oh! then, some Ages hence they'l cry
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Lo, Staffords blood, and shed for why?
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For nothing but because he sought
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To kill his Prince, and sham the Plot.
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V.
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Now they that dye for crimes like these,
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The Papists send to Heaven with ease.
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For they secure 'em safe from Hell,
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Which once beleiv'd, the rest is well.
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A strange beleif, that Men should think
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That were not drunk with worse then Drink;
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That such Rewards as Deifying,
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By Treason should be gain'd and Lying!
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VI.
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The Man that for Religion dyes
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Has nothing more before his Eyes,
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But he that dyes a Criminal
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Dyes with a load, and none can call
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Religion that which makes him dream
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Obduracy can hide his shame.
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VII.
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The Pope may do what he conjectures
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As to the business of his Pictures,
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The Colours nere can hide the Crimes,
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Stories will read to after Times.
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And twill be found the Hangmans hands,
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Will strangely blur the Pope's commands.
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VIII.
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Had he but shewed some Christmas Gambles,
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And Headless took St Denis Rambles,
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The Plot had been a damnable thing,
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And down had gon the Scaffolding,
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But cause his Lordship this forgot,
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Men still beleive there is a Plot.
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IX.
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Where was St. Dominic, asleep?
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Where did St Frank, his Kennel keep?
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That on a business so emergen,
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They did not briskly teize the Virgin?
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To let his Lordship play a Prank
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Her Grace becoming, and his Rank?
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X.
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But they that Heaven and Earth command,
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You see sometimes they'r at a stand;
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For rruth to tell ye, should the Saints,
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Be bound to hear all fool's complaints;
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Their lives would be as voyd of mirth
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In Heaven, as formerly on Earth.
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XI.
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Now Ballad-wife before he's dead,
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To tell ye what the Sufferer said;
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He both defended, and gain-said,
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Held up his hands and cry'd and pray'd
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And swore he nere was in the Plot,
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No, by his Vicountship, God wot.
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XII.
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Come come, Sir, had it not been better
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To have dy'd to death common debter?
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And that upon your lasting Stone,
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This Character had been alone?
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Here lyes a very Honest Lord,
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True to his King, true to his word.
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XIII.
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But those, of your Religion,
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Are nowadays so damn'd high flown,
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You think that nothing makes a Saint
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But Plot refin'd, and Treason Quaint;
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And Heaven accepts no Offerings,
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But ruin'd Kingdoms, murdered Kings.
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XIV.
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Now you that knew who were his Judges,
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Who found him Guilty without grudges,
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Who gave him over to the Block,
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And how he sham'd to save the stroak,
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If you beleive the speech he made ye,
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L'strange, and Paytons shame degrade ye
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XV.
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They us'd all Arts that could cajole,
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You may be sure, his silly Soul;
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And were those promises perform'd,
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With which his conscience they had charm'd,
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Who would betray a cursed Plot,
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To be when dead, the Lord knows what?
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XVI.
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But if those jolly Promises
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Do send thee into little ease,
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As certainly they must undo thee,
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Whatever Fools and Knaves said to thee;
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Then Phlegeus-like in Hell condole,
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And curse them that betray'd thy Soul.
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XVII.
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Now God preserve our Noble King,
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And bless all them that thus did bring
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Unto the Block that silly Head,
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That car'd not what it did or said.
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And all good Men may Heaven defend,
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From such a vile untimely End.
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